


Weechesters

by orphan_account



Series: Drabbles in the Life of Supernatural [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Child Dean Winchester, Child Sam Winchester, Gen, Growing Up, child fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8711182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of Dean's memories of him and Sammy as children.





	1. Making Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to an ask on Tumblr for my [Ask Dean Winchester](http://deanwinchester-rp.tumblr.com/) blog. You can find my blog here If you have anything you would like to see written, toss me a message, and I'll happily get to it.
> 
> And as always, Kudos and Comments are appreciated :)
> 
> Prompt: Positive asks for a somber day: favorite childhood memory of you and Sam? Besides the fireworks

“I tried to teach Sammy to make a pie once. We were in… Indiana, I think, it was on this hunt for a Windego. Dad was gone a really long time on that trip so we had one of those motel apartment things. You know the ones that have kitchens and shit.” Dean smiled as he remembered it. It wasn’t a bad place, had two bedrooms and one of the rooms had bunkbeds. Sam was 8 at the time, Dean was 12 and life was pretty normal that summer. 

“We walked to the grocery which wasn’t too far and bought everything we needed. Flour, sugar, cherries for the filling, pie plates and all that. Spent like $50 on the stuff, and yeah I knew Dad would probably be pissed at it, but I also knew I could go hustle some pool later at anyplace that would let me in, so wasn’t too worried.”

“Sammy wanted to everything himself, but needed like a stool to stand on cause back then, my sasquatch of a brother was tiny. I had to teach him everything slowly step by step. We poured in the flour and the butter and the sugar into a bowl and Sammy didn’t realize that when you turned the mixers on they had to be in the bowl fully. So when he turned it on, dough went EVERYWHERE. The ceiling, all over us, the counters. We could help laughing though, then started over.”

“By the time the pie was actually ready to eat the room was a mess, we were a mess. Dough and sugar and cherry filling was everywhere, but that pie was one of the best damned pies I’d ever eaten.”

“Yeah, that was a good day.”


	2. Sammy's First Cuss Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time little Sammy cussed

Sammy was always a little nerd; always wanted to know about everything, how everything worked, where things came from, how it all started. His first word ever was “How”. I mean, what kind of word is that for your first word?

But since that very first time he said it, he’s never stopped. “Dean, how is this made? Dean, how do you do that? Dean, how come the sky’s blue?” His life was filled with endless questions and it took everything in me to keep up with him. His brain is like a sponge, just soaking up information to repeat later.

Most the time he didn’t even understand what he was saying or what was really happening. He was also incredibly sheltered, which was good, I wanted it that way. I didn’t want him to know what was really out there and I did my damnedest to make sure he grew up as normally as possible with no supernatural worries. 

But, moving around so much we didn’t really have a lot of other kids to play with. I didn’t care, I had to watch Sammy, protect him from everything, but Sammy was often lonely. He would follow other kids around in playgrounds, or in the hotels and mimic what they would say, or tell me stories of what he heard. 

He was four years old when he said his first cuss word. Dad had just gotten back from a two day hunting trip, something that should have been easy but took more time than originally thought. We were eating dinner as a family, one of the very few and rare times we actually did that. Dad had brought home some chicken, green beans and mashed potatoes from the local supermarket and we all sat down together to eat it. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes into the meal when Sammy puts his fork down, and makes the first ever Sammy Winchester Bitch Face, and says, “Daddy, these greenbeans taste like asshole.”


	3. Riding a Bike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam learns to ride a bike

Teaching Sammy to ride a bike has to be one of my favorite memories of little Sammy. Dad had been on a hunting trip for 4 days, and we were staying at this hotel that was kind of like apartments. It had a playground out back, fenced in with a jungle gym. Sam had seen a few kids ride by on their bikes and kept asking about it. Course we didn’t have one, or even money to get one, but I got him one anyway. “Borrowed” it from a neighbor. When I gave it to him, I told him he had to close his eyes, and he did, always trusting me to keep him safe. I led him out to the park, to the paved track that followed the perimeter, and told him to open his eyes.

I’ll never forget the way he lit up, like it was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. Course I told him he couldn’t keep it, but he didn’t even care, because right at that moment, that bike was his, and he was going to learn to ride it. He immediately got on, yelling at me to hold onto the back of it, so he wouldn’t fall, and then slowly he started to pedal. At first he would scream at me not to let him go, but after about an hour or so, he told me to let go. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I knew he’d fall, and I couldn’t let him do that. I had to protect him.

He yelled at me again, telling me I was holding him back, he couldn’t go as fast as he wanted, but I still held on. After we rounded a part of the track, and it was mostly straight again for a while, he reached over and punched me right in the gut, hard. I immediately let go of course, doubling over, more from the shock than from actual pain. But let me tell you, Sammy’s fist was pointy, and he got me good. He yelled back at me that that was what I got for not listening to him and laughed. He was such a little shit. 

He did good though. Kept going, even as I ran after him. There was a part of the track that was uneven, where winter had come and the cracks in the pavement hadn’t been sealed yet. Sammy hit that patch and went flying into a bush. I remember yelling for him, so scared that he was seriously hurt, but when I got to him he was laughing, still in the bush and wiggling like a beached whale unable to get out of it. 

We spent the rest of that day with Sammy on that bike, and after we returned it to its original owner, we went out for ice cream. 

That day was amazing.


	4. Dream Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel didn't meet Dean for the first time in Hell, he met Dean as a child, in his dreams. The angel used to visit almost nightly, talking to Dean about nothing in particular and listening as Dean told him stories...

Sometimes, when Dean was little and his nightmares would become too much, too overwhelming, the brightest, warmest light would come in and push it all away. He couldn’t remember the first time it happened, the first time his “imaginary” friend came to visit him in his dreams, but it seemed to happen often, a few times every month or whenever Dean needed him most. In his mind though, the man was there, but not there; some kind of warm, bright light, that on occasion looked like a man with bluest eyes and a tan trench coat.

The man told Dean his name was Castiel, and he was an angel of the lord. A guardian sent to protect Dean throughout his life, and by extension, Sam. Cas would sit with Dean, tell him stories of the world long before Dean was born, wild tales of the first living creatures, or how the cosmos were created. He would tell Dean stories about the dinosaurs and about watching Man learn to stand on their own. Sometimes, though, when Dean just needed to sit with someone safe, Castiel would fold Dean in his wings and sit quietly, protecting the little boy until Dean could sleep.

Things went on this way for several years, Dean being nearly a teenager, before Castiel had to leave for good. Dean knew it would happen some day, Cas told him, and as time went on, the memory of Castiel faded into the back of Dean’s mind. Until one day, Dean could barely remember the angel at all.

But Castiel remembered it all enough for the both of them, until one day, Dean and Castiel were reunited. This time though, the angel was determined not to let his human slip away.


End file.
